


Unbridled Horror

by TeamTired



Series: The 120 Pairing Challenge [4]
Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Animal Transformation, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Body Horror, Bullfighting, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Comfort, Dream Bubble, F/M, Failed Relationship, Furry, Gore, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Insanity, M/M, Masochism, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamTired/pseuds/TeamTired
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dead Dave gets tired of the Dream Bubbles and decides to explore, but he runs into Equius Zahhak, who has managed to turn his bubble into an eternity of hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Though his story ended with a green suit and a black sword, lying drenched in his own blood next to a red slab, that didn’t mean he had to stop living. The dream bubbles provided a way for even the most disenfranchised of Daves to live out some semblance of an afterlife.

At least for a time.

Striders are so difficult to please. 

It started innocently enough. An expedition into another dream bubble was nothing new, and he had done countless jumps before. He got bored cooped up in his own bubble, with only his own memories to entertain him. As the intersections between bubbles became less and less frequent, it became obvious that he had to do something to stay sane, to keep himself from getting stuck in a rut and becoming addicted to reenacting old memories. 

So he started testing. HIs inner Strider balked at the idea, but there could be no success without failure, and what the hell else was he gonna do? 

First he tried to find the barriers to his bubble world. No matter how far he walked or for how long, he could never find anything. The world seemed to stretch on forever. So he tried something else. He tried to force the content of his little micro-verse. He realized that he could recreate anything he could remember well, but nothing else. This little world was entirely focused on him, and thus depended on his input. 

So he tried to remove everything. He concentrated, like his brother taught him. As he got into position, he could feel the bubble morphing, reenacting the memory of first learning to meditate. 

“Okay dude, now pull yourself inwards. Concentrate on one thing, and start removing everything else. Ignore everything your senses tell you, they’ll lie to you anyway. Feel the way your breath comes in and out of your nose, and focus only on that.”

“but bro” he could hear himself respond, in a voice that was at once his own and yet only an echo.

“what is this shit supposed to teach me man”

Dave could feel the sting of the smack delivered by his brother and sensei. 

“Idiot. When you can learn to remove the unimportant, you can focus on the important. Distractions are just a host of other assholes that are trying to keep you down and fuck you up. A true swordsman can become one with his sword, using it as an extension of himself. It is only then that will be worthy of the Strider battle techniques.”

Dave remembered sitting in silence for a moment before speaking up again.

“hey bro

how much of that was total bullshit”

He remembered how his brother laughed and laughed before responding again. 

“Most of it lil’ dude. The ability to figure out what’s bullshit and what’s good advice is another essential element of the Strider identity. Now get to practicing. I’ll be back whenever.”

As he began to meditate in earnest, Dave could feel the elements of the dream bubble begin to fade away. But he didn’t stop. Instead, he concentrated even harder on ignoring the sensations of the dream bubble, until he felt nothing. 

When he opened his eyes, Dave felt covered in a thin, plasticine film. He had finally reached the true barrier of the dream bubbles. 

From there he was just a few breathing exercises and well placed jabs away from total freedom in the void. But once he had finally pierced the thin membrane between himself and everything else, he realized his real problem.

Nothing he had ever done had prepared him for existence outside of any reality, pretend or otherwise. HIs vision was almost totally consumed by visions of the Highest Order of HorrorTerrors, their tentacles undulating to the rhythm of their psychic screams. He felt his body pulled in a thousand different ways as every other reality attempted to suck him in. 

But a Strider never gives up. 

Dave propelled himself through the void, towards anything at all. As he flew through the negative space between universes, he was at once confused and almost nauseated by the drastic flux in time and space. Somehow, movement through an inch of space seemed to take thousands of years, while a million miles could pass by in what seemed like a second. 

But through at all, Dave kept his cool, until he finally collided with a bubble, which wrenched him from the profane space of the void into the safety of a pretend reality. 

\----------

The transformation was gradual. When Equius first arrived in the void, everything was okay, comfortable even. He felt at peace drifting through nothingness, summoning figments of his memories at will to appease his every whim. 

And of course Nepeta was there too. At least, she usually was. Without the need to protect Nepeta or keep Equius from accidentally killing anyone, their moirallegiance was less out of necessity and more out of mutual admiration and respect. And while that meant fewer worries, it also took a huge toll on the relationship. Since every conflict had already played out, and every memory had already been addressed and soothed, there were fewer feelings to talk about. And while Nepeta relished the ability to let her imagination run wild, Equius was far less well endowed in that area, and far less inclined to participate.   
And so their moirallegiance drifted. And while they eventually agreed it was all for the best if they separate, Equius never really believed that. Nepeta promised she’d visit, but Equius had heard that a thousand times from a thousand failed moirallegiances before. The feeling jams were gone. 

And Equius felt empty. He missed the feeling of wholeness she gave to him. He missed the way she could soothe him, softly and slowly, by rubbing up against him oh so gently. He missed everything about her, from her stupid cat tail to her little round horns. 

And while he’d never admit it, he had always needed her far more than she needed him. 

So with no moirail to stabilize him, Equius began to fall apart. His darker vices took ahold of him, and he could feel himself slowly devolve. Soon, the only thing he knew was pain: both the joy of inflicting it and the perverse delight of receiving it. He would reenact killing imps and destroying robots until every surface of the dream bubble was covered in grist and robot parts, and then when his anger could rise no higher, he began to punish himself. 

He would reenact moments of personal pain and suffering, from the harsh slap of Aradia’s robot hands to Gamzee’s graceful strangle, and everything in between. He would imagine the Black King of the troll’s session tearing him apart a thousand times until his blue blood had stained his entire reality. 

It was never enough. 

Somewhere between the purest moments of pain and pleasure, Equius lost himself. He lost the troll who had once felt pity for the silly cat girl. He systematically destroyed himself until there was nothing left but hate. 

And it was somewhere between the third and fourth eternities of infinite hate that something changed. 

Dave Strider appeared. 

\----------

As Dave slammed through the barrier separating Equius’ dream bubble from the outside world, the two of them felt the same curious feeling: the dread that something had just gone completely and totally wrong. 

Dave’s actual arrival occurred with very little fanfare. It was as if the bubble had simply forgotten that Dave wasn’t there, and so he was. 

As Dave looked around, it took him only a few moments to confirm that he had entered the dream bubble of a troll. Though he did not recognize the specific locale, everything was familiar enough, from the strange flora to the dark, oddly colored and foreboding sky. But everything in the bubble seemed darker and tainted, as if something was twisting the landscape. 

Though it was of no surprise to him, Dave couldn’t influence this bubble like he could his own or the communal bubbles that were created when two or more bubbles intersected. He was in for the long haul, at least until this bubble intersected with another. 

As he explored the bubble, Dave couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He knew that the owner was present, he could almost feel the troll watching him, ready to strike. And then he heard it, that inhuman noise. 

It was like the moo of an angry bull and the neigh of a wild stallion, combined with the tortured screams of a thousand trolls. This was the noise of a creature that had gone so far past pain that the term no longer had a meaning. 

Dave spun around, trying to locate the source of the scream, but he couldn’t. The scream rippled through the very fabric of the bubble, seemingly coming from every direction at once. 

So Dave just stopped paying attention to his senses. He reached out with his very being, feeling the fabric of the bubbles. It was then that he finally pinpointed the source of the chaos and pain. Dave could feel it approaching him at full canter, it wouldn’t be too long until it was upon him. Dave waited in tense silence, frozen in place. As he felt the final leap that could very well seal his fate, he struck out, slicing towards the creature as he sidestepped its attack. 

As he felt the creature land, Dave allowed himself to open his eyes. He immediately regretted that allowance. 

What he saw was neither troll nor beast, but instead some profane mixture of the two. It towered over Dave at close to twelve feet, somehow remaining deft and graceful while being monstrously muscled. It had a body like a horse, complete with mane and tail, but its torso and haunches were so terribly muscled that the creature was instead round like a bull. Its hooves were giant and sharp, but the front two had fleshy protrusions, as if they had still somehow remembered being hands. 

But the most horrid part was the head. The head was the part that had remembered being humanoid the best. And though both of the sharp, straight horns of the beast had been broken, and the creature’s face had been disfigured by countless poorly healed scars, there was no mistaking the identity of the bubble owner. 

For a split second, Dave lost his cool. It neither the grotesque nature of the thing that Equius had become, nor the cloud of void that was seemingly eating away at Equius that bothered Dave the most. 

It was the eyes. Somewhere in the eyes of the beast Dave saw some semblance of humanity (trollmanity?). But whatever remaining intelligence remained inside Equius was devoted to one thing and one thing entirely.

Hate. Pure unabashed delightfully lewd hatred. 

As Equius dripped a few drops of royal blue blood from his haunch, Dave realized the very worst part of his new home.

“oh fuck

hes enjoying this”

Equius broke eye contact and bared his torn, jagged horns for a charge. As Equius gathered speed, Dave only gritted his teeth and prepared to dodge. As Dave sidestepped the attack, he could feel the tendrils of void coming off of Equius’ tormented body. He could feel them dig into him, creating a chill that touched his very soul.

But Striders don’t lose their chill easily. 

As Equius skidded to a stop and prepared for another go-round, Dave saw his chance to attack. He leapt towards his opponent, jabbing his katana towards Equius. Unfortunately for Dave, it didn’t do very much. As another trickle of blood dripped down Equius’ side, Dave knew he was doing nothing but somehow pleasuring the beast. 

And so the two became locked in a deadly dance. With every dodged attack Dave became not tired but more determined, and with every scratch and wound Equius became not hurt but more engaged. What had started as a struggle for survival became another ritual, another offering with the intentions of pleasing the Horrorterrors above and the beast inside Equius. 

The ground was soon soaked in the sweat and blood of the two combatants, but they had no intention of stopping. It was an eternal bullfight with no winners, save for those who delighted in the perversion of eternal combat. 

Luckily for Dave, Striders make fucking awesome matadors.


	2. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade is deeply disturbed by the appearance of a corrupted dream bubble and is utterly shocked at what she finds inside.

Jade Harley settled down into an inviting rest after another long day of watching the battleship float through the yellow yard. Though there was nothing particularly tiring or lacking about her life on the battleship, she was always excited to settle down, for a new night of experiencing the dream bubbles brings a new host of experiences and friends as well! 

She padded in a careful circle around her pile of pillows, her ears and tail twitching as she moved. Though she wasn’t quite sure why she does this, she knew that it makes her space feel more comfortable somehow. Just another thing that comes with the territory of being part dog she supposed. 

As she curled into a comfortable shape and closed her eyes, Jade could already feel the unpleasant sensation of being peeled into the protective bubble that kept her from the HorrorTerrors that resided in the Void. Though most nights she was content to stay in her own bubble, kept company by her sleeping friends and the contents of whatever bubbles happened to meet with hers, today she felt more like bubble-gazing. 

She carefully concentrated, diminishing herself and the effect she had on the bubble around her. When she had eliminated as many distractions as possible, she started a breathing exercise Davesprite had taught her. As she carefully breathed in and out, she could feel the uncomfortable feeling that came with shrinking a dream bubble: the feeling that everything was closing in around her. The dog part of her couldn’t help but let out a yelp of frustration, and she could feel the part of her that dealt with her Aspect protest as well. 

But she ignored all those feelings and focused on the breathing, just as she was taught. Eventually, she succeeded in shaping the bubble into a small transparent box, through which she could gaze at the Void itself. Usually such an exercise was more or less pointless, as often enough there was nothing to see but the occasional errant tentacle, but ever so often Jade could catch a fleeting bubble this way, which at the very least would alert her to if any friends were coming nearby. 

This time, however, what was coming towards her was no ordinary bubble. Most the Dream Bubbles Jade had encountered were bright and happy, as indicated by their rainbow coverings and other cheery markings, which Jade found usually reflected both their contents and were effective in keeping away the influence of the HorrorTerrors. A handful of the more serious bubbles were covered in dull opaque colors, which were less interesting and usually held more personal, boring memories.  
But this bubble was something else, something sinister even. Though the protective shell was completely clear, which Jade was immediately suspicious of, the bubble had been entirely evenly coated on the inside with two contrasting shades: a deep royal blue and a bright red, the second of which made Jade sick to her stomach just looking at. 

And while Jade could not see into this bubble, she knew it held nothing but trouble. 

A moment of careful consideration had the result of a torn Jade. Part of her felt the impulse to help, propelled by a silent fear that whoever was in that bubble was in danger, and needed help. But the other half of her was consumed by fear, driven away by whatever powerful and deadly entity could create and sustain such a horrific thing, not to mention the necessarily awful influence that the HorrorTerrors themselves could have on a clear bubble. 

Consumed by thought, Jade almost missed the fact that the corrupted bubble was drifting her way, about to collide with her own bubble. She had only a moment to steel herself and prepare her own bubble, hoping that somehow she could quell the onslaught her mind was about to face. As the foreign bubble smashed into hers, her senses were assaulted with the most terrible things she had ever felt: the smell of fresh and rotten blood combined, the audible chaos of constant battle, the sight of the decaying bodies of her friends and strangers, the tactile sensation of razor blades being dragged across her skin, and the taste of death. Overwhelmed, Jade felt even more trapped than she had a moment ago in the rapidly shrinking dream bubble. She was stranded in an eternity of that hell before she was able to gain control of her breathing, and what felt like an instant later she was able to wrest enough mental control to break free into the foreign bubble itself. 

She did not like what she saw.

At the center of the bubble, marked easily by a dividing line of bloodstains, were two combatants, locked in battle. The figure on the left was someone that might have been Dave Strider a millenia ago, had things gone differently. He moved with a savagery that was completely foreign to Jade, and when he dragged his blade across the flesh of his opponent, Jade saw a grin that he knew the real Dave would never show, a delight in bloodlust that was so inherently non-Strider that it disgusted Jade. 

As the figure on the right reeled in pain, it prepared its own attack, a primal goring attack that speared the Dave-look-alike right down the middle and left him on the ground, seemingly for dead. As the beast retreated, the Dave-imposter stood up, confirming Jade’s thought that this was some sort of eternal blood-war. 

As Jade studied the beast, she noted a number of confusing humanoid traits. This was not something that was originally beastial, this was a creature that like the Dave trapped in this bubble, had forgotten its true nature, for some reason or another. 

As the contest tore on, Jade could see the marks of pain and anguish appear on the face of each fighter. Though the two put on a show of enjoying their bloodsport, neither were fooling Jade. It was clear to her that trickery was afoot, and she consigned herself to stopping it. The first step was to remove the influence of the HorrorTerrors. Only by closing off the source of infection could she work to purge it from this bubble. Concentrating as she did before, she attempted to effect a change on the dream bubble’s surface, hopefully to close it off from the outside. But as hard as she tried, she could do nothing. 

Jade frowned, puzzled by this odd obstacle. She had managed to manipulate her own bubble before, why was this one any different? 

And then she realized what was the matter. She was no longer in her bubble. Whatever this bubble was and to whomever it belonged, it was outside of her direct control. If she wanted to modify it, she would have to take that up with the bubble’s residents, which would be more than a challenge. 

Jade gritted her teeth and sat back for a minute, observing the conflict before her. The longer she watched, the more disgusted she became, but the more she learned. Eventually, she was able to discern a pattern in the movements of the two figures, a repetition that she believed she could exploit. She waited for the opportune time to strike, and when the figures were most separated from each other, she leapt into the fray, confident she could keep the two separated. 

At the apex of her jump, however, she smacked into a barrier, which she painfully slid off of back onto the harsh ground of the bubble. As she tested it carefully, she found it charged with a fierce, conceptual energy. This was not a physical barrier but a metaphysical one, projected by the very nature of the battle that was producing it. 

Before rushing towards the figures again, Jade took a moment to examine the fight. What had surprised her before was the ferocity of the fight, an innate savagery that had repulsed her. It had been that savagery that had driven her to separate the two poor souls locked in the dream bubble, but perhaps that was not the problem? 

After another six iterations of the pattern, Jade began to understand. The savagery was not the disease that was afflicting the bubble, it was a symptom of a much more dangerous creature: pure hatred. Comprehending that, Jade concentrated even more deeply than she had before, except this time her efforts were not focused on the bubble, they were focused on herself. She pushed her canine nature to the forefront, urging it to take control of her mental projection. She could hear a voice in her mind, a memory of a thing that fueled her transformation.

“What a daring dream, to combine the finest qualities of humanity with the elegance and nobility of the animal kingdom. How you wish you could know their world. To hear one night those muted pawpads traipse up your stairs. A low but friendly growl unsettles your slumber, and as the sopor seeps from your eyes they detect a sharp pair of ears cutting moonlight. A mysterious wolven tongue invites. Wouldn't these ears suit you? Would not this proud long snout assist you in the hunt?” 

“yes!” answered Jade emphatically, spurring the primal transfiguration forward. As her ears lengthened and her snout developed, Jade could hear the voice again, accepting her complicit attitude and fulfilling her wishes. 

“No need to answer. Words slough from the busy mind like a useless dead membrane as a more visceral sapience takes over. Something simpler is in charge now, a force untouched by the concerns and burdens of the upright, that farcical yoke the bipedal tow. It now drives you through the midnight brush, your paws whisking through creepers, unearthing with each bold stomp bright odors demanding investigation. But not for long, as you and your new friend must claim the night with piercing howls moonward.”

Jade could feel the sapience the voice mentioned take occupance in her mind, gratefully taking the opportunity to revel in life and sentience. In that instant, Jade was of two minds, her animal side was fully embraced and yet totally separate; Jade was at once herself and a totally foreign beastial entity, a friend that could both be her and guide her. The voice and the lupine influence spoke a final time to her as she felt her mouth nip at a nearby insect. 

“You eat a weird bug and don't even care.”

Jade couldn’t help but laugh, but what exited her mouth is more of a mix between a growl and a yelp, which confused and excited her. What came next was a natural leap, one far more experienced and well crafted than her previous jump, which she now regarded as amateur-hour chump change. As her slim stark white wolf body broke the tension of the second barrier, she felt a surge of unpleasantness that more than rivaled the horror she experienced when entering the dream bubble. But with her mind reinforced by the feral presence, she was more than capable of shaking it off and dealing with the work at hand. 

As she landed gracefully at ground zero of the arena, she could feel her presence warding off the fighters slightly, even going as far as to influence them slightly. The swordsman’s face softened slightly, losing its scars and becoming more child-like, while the beast’s horns reconstituted partially and its wounds healed, while its movements became less unnatural and more humanoid. 

Not content with a partial victory, the white wolf with the jade eyes projected her ward farther, pushing the combatants to the edge of their barrier. The two underwent another transformation as the matador lost a substantial amount of his muscle mass and gained back his trademark record shirt while his bull shrunk considerably and became humanoid. 

It was at this moment that the two began to fight back, their corrupted hate pushing them onwards. Jade could feel her work slowly fading, cracking under the pressure of their constant barrage of hatred, so she opted for a more personal approach. 

She padded slowly towards the troll on the edge of the barrier, who was now looking quite distraught at the idea of having been reduced to his former form. When she was within snapping distance, however, she remained calm and peaceful. Though she held the form of a beast, she reminded herself that her mission was one of kindness and healing. The final few steps between her and the troll were the most difficult and came between waves of pain and pure dark energy, the kind that threatened to disintegrate Jade as well as the the entire bubble. 

When the distance had been totally crossed, however, Jade was able to rest her snout on Equius’ shoulder, which delighted her to no end. Meeting no resistance at this point, Jade made her way around him, brushing up against his side and nuzzling his cheek with her snout. At once, a portion of the spell was broken, enough that both Equius and Dave regained some sense of awareness regarding what had been going on. 

“holy shit 

harley can you get me out of here”

Jade attempted the best negative shake she could given her current form and turned her attention back towards Equius. He was still tormented by the hatred that had taken him so completely, and it was obvious to her that more work needed to be done. She attempted a transformation back to her human form, but met with considerable resistance. It appeared that it would take a little bit more work before this bubble would lose its feral prerogative. In response to this insistence by the bubble’s nature, Jade elected to perform a few cute dog tricks: namely the placement of a paw on a stunned Equius’ outstretched hand and then a single lick of her long wolf tongue on his sweaty and befuddled visage. 

That did the job. Jade felt herself return to a more humanoid form, albeit one that still possessed dog ears and a tail. Though she did not remove her focus from the troll in front of her, she could feel the presence of Dave behind her fade, which she relished and wished she could hasten. Though Dave was not the primary source of Equius’ hate, he was nonetheless a target, and thus a liability. 

She moved her hand carefully towards Equius’ face, focusing on his now totally trollian features. As her hand made its way through his greasy hair, and down his damaged cheek, Jade attempted to will the afflicted troll back to health, but to no avail. Despite the resistance, Jade pushed onward. She grabbed Equius’ left arm and wrapped it around her torso, pushing the two of them closer together. She then wrapped her left arm around the back of his neck and her right arm around his heavily muscled back, drawing herself into an embrace with him. Though at first she felt only a muscled force pushing against her, that force eventually softened and began to cooperate, a symbol of some appreciation of her efforts. 

Jade did not let go, lest all her work go to waste. Instead she drew Equius’ head towards hers and kissed him on the cheek, tasting both the tang of his sour blue blood and the saltiness of his sweat. Feeling particularly successful, Jade then moved her left arm from his head and moved it slowly down his side and across his chest, as if she was patting away his fear and hatred. Something ancestral in Equius responded to her patting, and he softened immediately, dropping and becoming dead weight in Jade’s arms. She carefully lowered him to the ground and then lie there with him, occasionally kissing him on the cheek or forehead and mindfully stroking his chiseled chest or muscled arms. Though she was completely baffled as to what she had accomplished or how, it appeared to Jade as if she had somehow quieted the storm that was Equius Zahhak. 

It seemed like hours before Equius was stable enough to speak, but by then there was not much that needed to be said. Jade carefully explained to him the breathing exercises she wanted him to try, and a few minutes later, they were able to restore the protective layer to his bubble, protecting him from the horrid influence of the HorrorTerrors. Just as the layer was restored, Jade felt the tug of consciousness that accompanied waking from the dream bubbles, and she said good bye to Equius, kissing him on the lips with a single peck, intended only to encourage, not to titillate. Though she saw him sweat profusely at her gesture, she knew that he understood and would be okay.   
As Jade’s vision faded and she was lifted out of the dream bubbles and through the protective layer of Equius’ bubble into the waking world, she couldn’t help but smile. 

She loved helping her friends.


End file.
